A never ending fight.
by Peggie
Summary: Gotham has many people battling for its salvation on many fronts.


Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright

Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.

A never ending fight!

By

Peggie

Sometimes it seemed all the work and all the effort were for nothing. Every evening she personal saw the last patient out of the door of the clinic feeling that once again she'd done her bit to help the people of Gotham. The real people of this once great city, those who lived on the edge of extinction. People whose lives were often bleak not through choice but through circumstance. Each evening she retired to her small flat above the clinic sure in the knowledge that she had helped that she had made a difference. Only to open up the next morning to find another queue of people. It was a never ending fight, for every one person that they helped there were another ten, maybe even another hundred to take their place.

Some days she hated this city, hated the fact that it took all her best efforts and spit them back in her face. It took good honest people and through circumstances beyond their control made them victims. It took the weak willed and corrupted them. Also it literally took people, friends gone, taken by Gotham's greed. Thomas and Martha Wayne, her friends, kill for what, nothing but a few dollars. It also took people to a lesser degree. Bruce Wayne robbed of his childhood now engaged in a battle to stop crime in Gotham. A man who no longer had the chance of the life he should have had. Alfred, her friend, now too tired of watching and waiting for Gotham to claim what is left of Bruce. Gone from Gotham made ill by the constant worry, forced out unable to endure witnessing Gotham destroy everything he loved.

Alfred had asked her to go with him, and she'd wanted to, he'd never know how much she'd wanted to, but she couldn't. Gotham was in her blood, it was her life, and it possessed her soul. He'd understood, after more than thirty years of looking after Bruce, of course he understood obsession and a sense of duty. A sense of duty that had kept them both at their respective tasks and that had prevent them putting their own desires first.

Yes Gotham was a cruel place, a hard task master. It gave no time off for good behaviour. Yet it had a hypnotic feel, a boundless energy that made you it's willing slave. She'd been in Gotham for over thirty years it seemed a lifetime, it was a lifetime!

As a girl she'd dreamed of being a doctor, of helping others. But as the youngest child of a hard working but poorly paid preacher, and a girl, there hadn't been much hope of her being able to go to university never mind medical school. But she was bright, hard working and determined, always determined. Scholarships had been won easily by the little girl with a big dream. A dream of making a difference to the world. School, University and finally internships had all shown Leslie Thompkins to be an outstanding pupil. At twenty four she'd been overwhelmed by offers, a partnership at one of the best medical centres in Los Angles. A prestigious paediatrics hospital had offered her a place on staff and the Park Row Free Clinic had offered her a half pay job looking after societies down and outs. Her friends had been amazed that she'd even applied for post. Any doctor with Leslie's qualifications and references could demand the best salary from any hospital. "Why a Free clinic?" Mike Anderson had demanded "Why work in a hole like Gotham?" Mike had offered marriage instead, that had perhaps been the easiest offer to refuse. Leslie had only one love in her life, being a doctor.

A rather tired man had interviewed her in a bleak office, he'd explained the clinics function and its rather inadequate funding, which if she understood correctly came mainly from him. Part way through the interview they had both been needed to work on a woman who had been in labour nearly forty hours. Her husband hadn't been able to afford hospital bills, so in despair he'd rushed her here. They had performed a C section in conditions an army surgeon would have complained about. Both mother and baby had survived. Thomas Wayne had offered her the job, he'd apologised about the low pay and had offered a small furnished flat above the clinic as part of the deal. She knew he'd been amazed at her acceptance. But this had been her dream, to help those who needed help the most. The clinic had only opened part time so Thomas had set her up in her own small practice in Gotham. The new lady doctor had quickly become very popular and her practice could have easily been one of the biggest in the city but that had not been what she wanted. The clinic was her first love. She'd worked hard to get extra funding, anything to help the clinic expand it's services. Ironically it was to be the murder of her friends that was to realise her dream of a full time medical facility in Park Row. Thomas Wayne's will had enabled it to happen and as a tribute to him she'd made sure it was successful, she'd given up her flourishing private practice to concentrate on the clinic and on helping to care for the orphan son of her friends. 

Yes, Gotham demanded everything from you but it had its compensations. It was a place that allowed her to fulfil her dreams of helping others. It had given her good, loving friends and it had provided her with a son. Not her own flesh and blood but a young man she had mothered through his grief and loneliness.

No Gotham was not a nice place but it was her place. While there was breath in her body she would stay and fight to make it a better place for everyone. She would fight the never ending fight against poverty and despair.


End file.
